


Lavender Fields Community Center

by hazeleyedwriter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Gen, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Recovering Steve Rogers, Semi-Canon Compliant, a ragtag group of lgbt+ friends, canon timeline stops after tws, canon-compliant character death, for a split second, like Bucky comes back obviously, loki is mentioned approximately once, recovering Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazeleyedwriter/pseuds/hazeleyedwriter
Summary: When Steve wakes up from the ice, he decides to enroll in ballroom dance classes at a local lgbt+ community center.Or, what started out as a headcanon in two tweets and became something much longer.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	Lavender Fields Community Center

Steve took a deep breath. He had been instructed by his SHIELD-sanctioned therapist to “get back into things [he] enjoyed doing before the war, if such things still existed.” Steve had laughed and told them that he was pretty sure hoop rolling had gone out of style around 1926, but he could probably find something else of interest. And that he had; through a quick internet search of his new neighborhood he had found Lavender Fields Community Center and their free ballroom dance classes. The very idea of dancing without Bucky made him sad and long for the days they had spent turning each other in their living room. But he had signed up anyway, and there he was, standing outside a building with a rainbow painted on the side at the corner of Ocean and Parkside, trying to convince himself that he would have fun. He might even make new friends. Steve took another deep breath, opened the door, and walked inside. 

The first class was awkward, but by the second and third Steve began to recognize the regulars. They were a mixed group full of people ranging from young adults to still-younger-than-Steve-but-old-enough-to-be-the-instructor’s-grandparents. There was Adelaide: a student with bright blue hair that was cropped to her jawline, there was Delaney: a librarian who refused to match their socks, there was Caleb: a father who occasionally had to bring his daughter to class, there was Florence: who, in her retirement, had taken up drag, and then there was Jean: who was the first to approach Steve and ask him just what kind of bike he rode and where they could get one. Steve himself had become one of the regulars, or as Florence liked to refer to them, The Squad. When the weather was nice, they would stay after class and chat, talking about anything and everything, but particularly what had brought them together in the first place: looking for a group of like-minded people that ultimately gave them a sense of community that they might not find elsewhere had they not subjected themselves to the horrors of learning how to ChaCha real smooth in front of 10 or more people, doubled by the wall of mirrors. 

Over pitchers of sweet tea, Steve told them about what it had been like growing up bisexual during the Great Depression and the War. He told them about Bucky and how, when Steve had been sixteen, Bucky had pulled him up off the couch and in close to his chest, whispering for him to match his feetwork. Steve told them about how Bucky hadn’t minded when Steve’s boney feet had stepped on his toes, or how, when Steve tripped both of them up so badly, they would tumble to the floor in fits of laughter. Bucky’s smile was like looking into the sun, Steve told his new friends. He even told them about their dates to see the newest movies in the theater, and how more than once Steve had ended up in a back alley brawl with someone who had deserved it. His friends knew about the serum— they had all learned about him in a history class at some point— so he told them about kissing Bucky in front of all of his men the night before D-Day, and how they had loved dancing in pubs across Europe. He left out the part where Bucky fell from the train, and about how he had crashed the Valkyrie. They knew about all that too. 

“So if your honey taught you how to dance, why are you here with us?” Florence had asked. And Steve had answered. And The Squad had collectively nodded in response, with Jean tactfully changing the subject when the air felt too heavy. 

Steve had been going to the community center for two solid months before the Battle of New York turned his routine upside down. He had been grateful that the attack had been contained to Manhattan, and hadn’t caused any damage to what might have been his friends’ workplaces, schools, or the center itself. He reprimanded himself for that gratitude; the people in Manhattan probably had loved ones who were worried sick, who were affected by a brainwashed Loki and “his” plans for world domination. Nevertheless the proverbial shit had hit the fan in the Avenging business, and Steve had not been able to attend another dance class until after the shock that came with finding Bucky alive and getting him the help he needed. 

It was a warm August day when Steve had finally convinced Bucky to go with him. It’d be like old times, and it would help his recovery, Steve had told Bucky, pulling him up off the couch and into his chest. He had kissed him then, the height difference not as obvious as it had been when the roles had been reversed, but there was still a sense of familiarity and electricity in the action. 

“Alright,” Bucky had agreed. And he had held on tight as he rode on the back of Steve’s bike, and he had laced his fingers through Steve’s as they had stepped up onto the curb and into the community center. Bucky had put his hand on Steve’s waist, and had led them through the familiar waltz as the instructor counted the beats. He had even laughed when Delaney had pointed out that Bucky’s right sock matched their left, and how Bucky must have pretty good taste if he was into Steve and also didn’t match his socks regularly. Bucky had even agreed to sit with The Squad over their pitcher of sweet tea and had blushed when Adelaide had offered to pour him a glass. 

“So, you’re _The_ Bucky Barnes,” Caleb had said as he sat back in his chair. Bucky nodded. He wasn’t sure what was about to come next, given the most recent reports about him. But Caleb had smiled and continued to bounce his little girl on his knee. 

“We’ve heard a lot about Steve’s best guy. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Florence said. 

“You’ll have to come again,” Jean said.

“And maybe teach us how to Lindy Hop,” Steve winked. That dance had been Bucky’s signature, in every dancehall in Brooklyn and in all those pubs across Europe.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like, you can come yell about our favorite super-soldiers with me over on twitter where I am @/howlingcommndos :) I hope you've enjoyed this piece.


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